Writer's Block: Tales of a fanfiction author
by Ranger ari
Summary: A girl with writer's block gets an unexpected visit. Hot elf? I think not. Not a Mary sue, not a MS bashing story, and it (gasp) has a plot!
1. Writer's Block

AN: Wow it's been awhile *guilty grin * Just a note on this story: I know this has probably been done thrice over before, but the characters (with the exception of Tolkien's) are mine and the plotline (yes there is a *gasp * plotline!!:) is mine. Any complaints, comments, threats to take over the world, please let me know.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own LotR *sob * belongs to The Great Tolkien. ALL HAIL!!!  
  
The lovely melody floated through the beautiful morning, causing all who heard to pause and listen, most of them with a slightly glazed look on their faces. One such victim had been tracking the sweet voice for over an hour, but to no avail. The forest of Mirkwood was deep, and the elusive song seemed to emanate from the trees themselves. I hope she runs out of melodies soon, Legolas thought bitterly as he changed directions again. The song ceased suddenly, and the elf felt hope rise in his heart. Perhaps he would be able to eat a good, long breakfast for the first time in days. But alas, Legolas's hopes were shattered once more as the singer began her melody again, and his legs began walking against his will.  
  
"Valar, not again!" He cried, struggling against the awful grip the melody now held on his body. This strange ailment had been plaguing Mirkwood's residents for nearly a week now, and every time that accursed woman began to sing, Legolas was forced to follow. Quite unfortunately, the song was usually sung around mealtimes (breakfast had become quite popular), and the prince was beginning to wonder if he would ever taste fresh food in this age.  
  
Suddenly the trees opened into a bright, sunlit clearing, though it was nearly impossible to get even a ray of sunshine this deep in Mirkwood's borders. In a last, desperate attempt for escape, Legolas tried to cover his eyes. 'Must not look, must not look upon the beautiful witch.'  
  
He looked. Rather, his arms seemed to turn into stone, and he had no other choice but to gaze upon what looked like the loveliest maiden ever to grace Middle-Earth. Golden tresses that settled on moonlit skin nearly blinded the helpless elf, but the flowing, queenly dress dark as a midnight sky helped his vision a little. The maiden was stroking her hair lovingly, like it was a pet that hung from her head. Turning deep blue eyes to the prince, she smiled, almost evilly, but with her luxuriant lips, such a feat was impossible.  
  
Fighting down the urge to speak, Legolas's usually fair face contorted with agony.  
  
'I do not want to marry her, I DO NOT want to marry her; Valar please do not let me speak~'  
  
At last, his prayers were answered. A sudden crash broke the cheesy love tune that had been playing, unnoticed, in the background, and Legolas felt something hit the back of his head. Hard.  
  
"Thank you, kind angel," he breathed happily before darkness took over his senses.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
The remnants of a pencil gnawed in half flew into a small black trash bag next to Rachel's bare feet. The flustered author reached for a fresh writing utensil while transferring her nibbling to her nails. She glanced up at the computer screen in front of her, then at an open notebook lying in her lap. Outside the window next to the computer a full moon shone, illuminating her cluttered bedroom/writing cave.  
  
"Curses!" Rachel shouted, rising and slamming the window shut as the neighborhood werewolf began to howl an annoyingly mournful tune. "Where is that muse?!"  
  
The girl's muse, a slightly insane invisible friend named Crazy Elf, had disappeared the night before, leaving only a note saying, 'back whenever'.  
  
Rachel sighed and reached for a pixie stick. She hadn't updated any of her stories on fanfiction.net in weeks. The ragged author stared at her computer screen, discovering after a while that the white screen turned a funny greenish color if she didn't blink for a few minutes.  
  
After snapping out of her trance when her eyes felt like they were shriveling up, she looked over distastefully to her unkempt mattress lying in a puddle of moonlight. It was against her ways, but Rachel was pondering actually sleeping that night when an earsplitting roar knocked her out of her chair.  
  
"I DIDN'T DO IT!" Rachel yelled from under an armrest, hoping the police would hear over the helicopter's noise. But there was no roar of beating wings, or a bullhorn commanding her to come out of the house. Instead, there was nothing, only the faint glow of her computer screen. Pulling her blond hair out from the painful position it had taken under her arm, she risked a quick glance around the darkened room.  
  
"Who- anybody t-there?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, yes, there is somebody here." Rachel broke the sound barrier with a high pitched squeak and scrambled for one of her many flashlights scattered about the floor.  
  
There was a muttered curse from whoever was in the room. It sounded like they-she-he-it stood by the now closed window. Rachel found a small flashlight buried under an unidentified lump and flipped the switch. Nothing happened. A slight chuckle came from the window, and within moments, a torch flamed to life.  
  
"What are you doing?! You're going to burn the house down!" Rachel shrieked in a panic, starting a mad wiggle toward the bedroom door.  
  
Don't worry about that," the figure continued as if nothing was wrong, " no technology works around me after being in the AT."  
  
"What'd I do?" Rachel squeaked, fumbling with the lock on her door.  
  
"My name is AJ, and you are in big trouble. You were mere seconds away from spawning the horror of all fanfiction horrors, the cursed Mary Sue." AJ paused dramatically for effect, waiting for Rachel's response.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
There was a frustrated sigh, then a thump as AJ moved closer to the now thoroughly confused author, the torchlight revealing intense amber eyes and an obvious frown of irritation. Rachel risked another small squeak as the woman took her arm.  
  
"I'll explain later. Right now, you must come to CUP with me to discuss your fanfiction permits."  
  
"CUP?"  
  
"Cruel and Unusual Punishment," AJ replied calmly, almost happily and pulled Rachel to her feet, "If you're lucky you will not suffer much, considering the annoyingly high Mary Sue growth rate this month."  
  
Rachel stared blankly at the apparent escapee from a mental institution as AJ fiddled with something in her belt.  
  
"I will explain everything in great detail under one condition: you do not scream."  
  
Before Rachel had a chance to react, a loud beep sounded from whatever was on AJ's belt, and her bedroom/writing cave blurred and vanished, leaving Rachel and AJ spiraling down a pitch- black tunnel.  
  
Rachel's first instinct was to shriek the eardrums out of whoever could hear her, but failed as AJ clamped a hand over her mouth. The author risked a glance up at her apparent kidnapper and almost hurled. They seemed to be hurtling past hundreds of windows, each slightly different from the last. Abruptly AJ moved her other hand over Rachel's eyes and the pixie sticks from breakfast stopped threatening to appear again.  
  
"Ready," AJ shouted over the whoosh of wind in their ears.  
  
"Mmmhmf?" Rachel inquired through AJ's hand. The beeping noise was back, and the author felt AJ's body go rigid. There was a flash of light, or a change in atmosphere, and suddenly they were standing in knee- deep grass. AJ slowly removed her hands, revealing an endless looking meadow of the wavy grass, bordered to one side by an equally endless looking forest. Rachel gawked, thought about yelling, thought the better of it, and fell in a twitching heap in the long grass.  
  
"That is the AT," AJ explained, "agent transporter."  
  
"Ow," was all Rachel managed to say. Ignoring her, AJ strode briskly through the meadow, toward the great forest. When Rachel lifted her head again, the older woman was almost invisible among the trees. After a quick glance around, the author picked herself up and followed. What was the use of running away when you didn't know where 'away' was?  
  
"Okay, I'll play along," Rachel panted as she caught up with AJ, "You're a secret agent with really good special effects stored on your belt. Right so far?"  
  
"Not even close," came the cool response, "I am an agent, yes, but I work for CUP, an organization created to minimize the appearance of Mary Sues in popular categories of fanfiction. They have a tendency to, ah, disturb certain characters, and, erm, disgruntle storylines. With me so far?"  
  
"Umm, what's a Mary Sue?"  
  
AJ heaved a disgusted sigh. "They really are careless about issuing author's licenses aren't they? A Mary Sue," she continued before Rachel could interrupt, "Is an author-created character written into a book mostly for the purposes of relieving raging hormones. The character, 99 percent of whom are female, are described as beautiful, perfect, witty, charming, and have the most annoying, repulsive, SINGING VOICE." the agent paused to fume silently for a minute, and Rachel took the time to edge as far away from her as the trees surrounding them would allow. "Anyway, our job is to a: exterminate already-made Mary Sues, b: prevent authors such as yourself from creating them or c: preventing meddling authors from throwing book characters into our world."  
  
"You mean Le- LotR characters have been on earth before?!" Rachel yelped, wondering just how many times a certain blond elf had appeared somewhere in her world without her knowledge.  
  
"A good 563 and a half times."  
  
"And a half?"  
  
"You don't want to know," AJ said with a shudder, "Don't get me sidetracked. I'm supposed to explain everything. Since the LotR section is currently suffering a huge Mary Sue growth rate with the arrival of the movies, we have been forced to recruit would-be MS writers to serve their punishment as temporary agents."  
  
"Oh." Rachel replied, pondering whether or not to believe this utterly insane story. How many cherry flavored pixie sticks had she had that morning? They were known to bring strange and confusing dreams at times. Perhaps this as a warning from the little sugar crystal candy that she was in fact allergic to the cherry flavored ones. Nothing good ever came from cherry. Nothing nothing noth-  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Huh?" Rachel snapped her head up. The two had come to a small clump of rocks tucked in the roots of a particularly huge and gnarled tree. AJ was pointing to the smooth, flat rock in the middle of the bunch.  
  
"Push the button, if you please." The button, a small piece of what looked like moss, sat near the middle of the stone. Rachel hesitated a moment, then pushed. And dropped into a shallow hole that had suddenly opened under the rock. AJ landed lightly beside her as a pair of identical wooden bars came out of the rock with a low whirring sound.  
  
"Automated at last," AJ said contentedly. Then, "Hold on tight."  
  
Rachel had just enough time to grab her handle before the rock shot forward into a horizontal version of the previous tunnel. Without the windows, her stomach thought happily. The stone sped through the darkness at breakneck speed, twisting and dropping till all Rachel could comprehend was the darkness surrounding them. The author hung on for her life, and risked a small scream as a perfectly round wooden door suddenly blocked the stone's wild path.  
  
"EEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!" She yelled, and waited for the end of her most vivid nightmare yet.  
  
Then the door opened. 


	2. CUP

AN: First, thank you for the reviews! Special thanks to Lily Took for helping me get a disclaimer, which I now have *huggles disclaimer * And here it is!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the agents and Rachel, and maybe a stray hobbit or two, but nothing of Tolkien's is mine. Also, this story is sort of a spin-off of the wonderful PPC series, so I don't own the agent idea either. So don't sue! *brandishes butterknife *  
  
"-AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHOOF!" The stone screeched to a halt, but Rachel didn't. The girl resembled a golden haired bird as she flew through the air, crashing to a halt inches before an overly elevated and very evil looking boot.  
  
"New agent?" An unfamiliar voice inquired.  
  
"Yep," AJ replied, stepping off the rock to meet the owner of the boots.  
  
"Name?" Boots turned and addressed Rachel sharply. The author risked a nervous peek at the speaker as she pried herself off the freezing ground.  
  
"R-Rachel."  
  
"Do you have an official Author's License?"  
  
Rachel couldn't resist a twitch as she got a good look at the boot- wearer. Boots was a very tall, brilliant blonde woman who resembled AJ faintly, though her hair seemed to be frozen straight at her shoulders, and two ice blue eyes stared down at her instead of brown.  
  
"Ye-yeah. So I'm not dreaming?" Rachel asked, digging through her back pocket for her license. Boots smiled a rather evil smile, reached down, and pinched Rachel hard.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
"They really are careless about giving these out nowadays," Boots commented, a hint of sourness in her voice. "I'm Sarah, by the way," she added as an afterthought.  
  
AJ took the author's license while Rachel took the moment to nurse her new wound and discover where she was.  
  
Where She Was was an enormous dimly lit chamber, most likely a cave. The far sides of the cave were hidden from view, but the walls nearby revealed hundreds of dark tunnels, much resembling the one Rachel had just flown out of. Occasionally a shadow would speed past the tunnel entrances, causing a light whoosh to echo through the cave. The only light she could find came from a control panel in the center of the room, just feet from where she was standing, and somewhere else far above. The author strained her eyes until they were ready to fall out and managed to make out the roof of a-cabin?  
  
"Rachel?"  
  
Was this organization of psychos located in a hole under some cabin? What if someone just happened to walk in and fall to their deaths? The cave must be at least two miles long! Maybe-  
  
"Rachel!"  
  
"Huh?" Rachel squeaked, bringing her head back down a few hundred feet to find two pairs of identical stern eyes boring into hers.  
  
"Honestly, how long is your attention span?"  
  
"A-about five seconds," she muttered, receiving another of AJ's frustrated sighs.  
  
"Well, that can be fixed with field training," Sarah said with a smile almost as sinister looking as her boots.  
  
"Field training?"  
  
AJ rolled her eyes. "Might as well start there. Since we have not the budget nor the patience to properly train temporary agents, the CUP agency has taken to sending you authors straight into the line of duty."  
  
As the sinking feeling in the pit of Rachel's stomach quickly turned to sheer and complete fear for her life, AJ turned to the console and pressed a particularly shiny green button. Rachel closed her eyes and grabbed AJ's waist just in time as the six-foot circle of floor the trio was standing on shot upwards.  
  
"Ah good, a quick learner," Sarah commented as the platform stopped just as suddenly as it began.  
  
The skittish author opened her eyes to find they were standing in the cabin Rachel had glimpsed above. She looked down and where a gaping hole in the ground should have been there was an innocent dirt floor that looked as if it had been that way for centuries.  
  
"Wha-?"  
  
"Hush," AJ snapped, stepping over to a rotting set of cabinets and flinging them open, "No questions until after your briefing. Understood?"  
  
"Um, okay..."  
  
"Good," AJ replied, "Here's your belt and uniform."  
  
Rachel just managed to catch the black utility belt before it hit the ground and nearly toppled over in the process. The belt resembled an overly large brick in weight however, and the author almost toppled over for perhaps the fifteenth time that night. Day. Whatever. In the world Rachel was now, it was around noon, a detail she must have missed in the confusion of the AT.  
  
The uniform was just a pair of slightly baggy black pants, equipped with several large pockets that looked capable of holding 'The Lord of the Rings', single novel version. Despite everything, a grin spread across Rachel's face. Ah, excellent, maximum pixie stix storage.  
  
"Get out here!" Rachel looked up to see the agents standing outside the cabin, identical expressions of murderous impatience aimed in her direction. Squeaking softly, she hurried to join them. AJ shot her a warning glare before addressing her again.  
  
"Your duty from here on out is to ensure the stability and peace of the LotR plotline, including the lives of the characters within said plotline. Understood?"  
  
"Umm, yes?"  
  
AJ nodded sharply. "You shall achieve this by reversing, preventing, and/or eliminating all disruptive plot bunnies that happen to turn up in any area of Middle-Earth. Understood?"  
  
"Uh, yeah," Rachel said quickly, making mental notes to ask her muse what on earth plot bunnies were.  
  
"Raise your left hand."  
  
"My left?"  
  
"Yes," AJ snapped impatiently. Rachel's left hand shot into the air. "The green button is for Middle-Earth, blue, for this headquarters, and red for earth. Press the red twice to return to your home. Being a new agent, we will preset your missions for you so you will land in the precise locations of said missions. Said missions shall also be timed to prevent further destruction to the plot. "  
  
"Okay," she muttered sullenly as several Legolas-napping plans disappeared at this irksome news.  
  
"Place your left hand on your head."  
  
"My hea~?"  
  
"Do it!"  
  
What was left of her arm fell onto her head rather painfully.  
  
"Now spin around in a circle," Sarah commanded. The world began to blur as Rachel spun around in a circle, barely keeping her feet as the heavy belt and pants threatened to fly out of her hand.  
  
"Say ickabickakukuchee."  
  
"Ickabickakukuchee." The agents snickered wickedly.  
  
"Put the belt on." AJ said.  
  
"Put the bel~"  
  
"No, I mean actually put the belt on!"  
  
Rachel hastily strapped the belt to her waist as the familiar beeping sound started up again, this time from around her waist.  
  
"Now say, welcome to CUP, we hope you enjoy your first mission!"  
  
The author never managed to choke the last sentence out as AJ and Sarah vanished from sight, and the darkness of the AT appeared as her belt gave a last, final, rather mocking beep.  
  
* * *  
  
"How did the mission go?" AJ inquired casually after the confused author disappeared. Sarah frowned and glanced at her partner before answering.  
  
"Not well. Successful, but not well."  
  
AJ waited patiently, strolling to the cabin and waiting for Sarah to follow.  
  
"She nearly had him this time. The best I could do was knock him out before repairing the plot hole. I think they're planing something."  
  
AJ snorted dismissively, "Sarah, you've seen the research results; fangirls are incapable of plotting in large groups, with the exception of wild rampages. Such a feat of unity is next to impossible."  
  
"I know this," Sarah replied testily, "but they're getting stronger, you have to admit it."  
  
AJ winced. "Perhaps the arrival of the movies had something to do with it?"  
  
Sarah flung open the cabin door with a sigh. "Don't you think they would spend more time drooling in the theatre than scribbling horrid fantasies?"  
  
AJ muttered something incomprehensible, then, "I hate it when you're right, you know that?"  
  
"I know," Sarah smiled as sweetly as she dared, "So, what do we do?"  
  
A slow, frightening smile crept across AJ's face. "I might just have a plan.." 


End file.
